I woke up this morning to a strange post on Facebook by someone called “Ahmed Rushdie.” It said: ‘Facebook deactivated my account because they thought I wasn’t me. Now they insist I call myself by the first name I have never used. What a bunch of morons.’
The post was by Salman Rushdie, only known to the world – and his friends – as Salman Rushdie. “Who the heck is Ahmed Rushdie?” I asked in a comment on his post.

His response: “I have written to the moron who made the change but maybe he/she is just a bot… let’s see if it replies.”

Apparently, Facebook wouldn’t believe Salman was Salman. Not from a quick look at his 800-odd friends, not from his witty and erudite comments, not even from his personal pictures with his son. Apparently, a world renowned, Book-prize winning author cannot just “be himself” on Facebook, not like you and I can.

Do we see the irony here, of social media’s lapse in its promise of freedom and sovereign identity? Do we see how it’s hard not to compare this to the other clamp-down of identity this writer has seen in the past, from fools who won’t look deeper?
Salman Rushdie wrote to Facebook. His friends wrote their outrage on Facebook and Twitter. A few minutes ago, Facebook scrambled and returned Salman Rushdie to Salman Rushdie.

Makes me wonder who else out there is told they are not who they think they are.